


The Bond Between Them

by CheyenneSparrow



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl Dixon & Carol Peletier Friendship, Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier Smut, Developing Relationship, F/M, Inspired by The Walking Dead, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 02:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15354327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheyenneSparrow/pseuds/CheyenneSparrow
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple supply run... but like nearly everything else in this fucked up world, it went sideways.





	The Bond Between Them

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. This is a work of pure fiction. All characters and events depicted in this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
> 
> * Please comment, I want to know what you think! Your feedback will be my guide for the chapters to come. Thanks so much & enjoy!

**The Bond Between Them**   


 

Chapter One   


Carol sat up, raised her arms above her head and stretched. The hard bench she was sitting on was making her back ache. The release of pressure as her joints cracked under her wet clothes made her moan with relief. Repositioning herself into a more comfortable position, as impossible as it was, she looked at the wet figure drizzled in moonlight across from her. 

“ Will you stop pacing…” she said yawning, “ you look like a caged animal...or a wet cat.”   
  


She chuckled a bit at what she had said, imagining just how much Daryl reminded her of a trapped and soaked feral cat. He was so wild at times, there was no other way to explain it.   
  
All she got in response was a shoulder shrug and an indifferent grunt of the throat. It was still storming. The hard patter of rain on the roof and the constant rolls of thunder was a reminder that it had no plans on letting up anytime soon. They hadn’t counted on the storm to approach as quickly as it did. They were stuck here for the moment with nothing to do other than to wait it out.   
  


***

  
Back at the camp he had surprised her by asking if she wanted to come along on his scout. She hadn’t ridden with him since the night escaping the farm, so she was a bit taken aback, a bit nervous. Daryl didn’t ask for things like that. He was a loner… a tender hearted one, but loner all the same.    
  
He had stopped with his back towards her, head slightly turned to the side, an eye peeked past his dark bangs to study her.    
  


“ Well… y’ comin’ or not? Don’t got all day.”, he said. Daryl had such a way with words and always said everything with a certain moodiness similar to that of a child. Regardless of that aspect his words catapulted Carol out of her temporary shock.   
  


“ I’d like that.” , she answered.    
  
They had such a bond, a tenderness that she had never had with another man. It crept up on her really. He had been the first man that she had felt comfortable around since before she got married, she wasn’t ashamed to be vulnerable around Daryl. Somehow he always managed to help her access an inner strength she didn’t know she had to help her through those times where everything got to be too much. For years Ed had ruined so much for her. Had caused her to retreat inside herself, becoming the timid, shy wife and mother that he wanted her to be.... his little mouse. She had spent those years building up walls to hide the abuse and to keep people out of her life. 

 

“ Oh it’s nothing…” , she would say when a coworker or doctor questioned a bruise. “ the darn dog tripped me yesterday.” she would plaster on a shy smile and assure them how silly she had been for not doing this or that to prevent the dog from tripping her up… but there was no dog. Not on all fours anyway, the dog was her bastard of a husband and she was his little mouse to play with.   
  


Daryl tore down those walls little by little and always had an eye on and out for her. His actions at the farm alone melted her to this day. The fact that he had given her so much hope, something to hold onto when her daughter was missing. That he risked his life and very well nearly died searching for her little girl. Darly knew her and because of the past that they shared he felt the need to protect her. 

 

Everyone stood in shock when those big, heavy wooden doors produced a little girl. Daryl was the first to hold Carol back when she burst forth to reach her baby girl…her sweet Sophia. 

Covered in dirt, the child limped out of Hershel's shed, feet dragging heavy, mechanically urged forth by a need that consumed her. She scanned the yard with her milked over eyes, glancing over the group of now strangers… a large bite mark on the space that was between her shoulder and chest. 

 

Carol’s heart had dropped to her knees the second her eyes landed on her girl. She had known that it wasn’t her, but she couldn’t help but want to scoop her up. To assure herself that her baby girl was really alive… was  finally safe in her arms.

 

Daryl's grip on her was firm. They had collapsed together, lying on the ground adjacent to the fragile small approaching figure. It took everything Carol had to raise her gaze up to look at her daughter between gut wrenching sobs. Her very soul crumpled in on itself when Rick pulled the trigger. The image of Sophia’s head jerking back from  the bullet still haunted Carol’s dreams to this day. Not at the rate that they once had in the months shortly after but often enough for her never to forget… not that she ever would. 

That moment in time changed them and fused a connection between the two deeper than they could have dreamed possible. They shared the same heartbreak. His need to find Sophia was so strong and at the time Carol knew that it was tied to his want to find his brother alive. That the girl must have been alive… must have been.   
What they had would never be broken, they counted on each other for survival. This world was quick to break you unless you had a lifeline and they were each other’s. Everyone in the group knew it, never said it, but they knew… and could probably see the invisible strings of tenderness shared between them as clear as day.   
  


***

  
Carol climbed onto the bike carefully, sliding close behind Daryl. It seemed so natural to fold her arms around him. She chuckled when he looked down at her clasped hands. He tenderly grazed them with his left hand, the feeling so foreign to him. 

 

“ I don’t bite… unless you want me to”, she teased, 

“ Are we going or not?”

  
He shook his head and started the motor, easing away from the camp. Once they turned onto the main road he sped up figuring that they were far enough out not to lead any walkers towards the way they had come. Swerving to and fro to avoid cars, deep cracks in the pavement, and the occasional walker, Daryl radiated with confidence… like a true road dog he felt a sense of home… he was home.

 

There had been an eighteen wheeler jackknifed in the road before them, leaving just enough space for him to squeeze through without slowing down too much. He could feel Carol’s arms tighten around his waist with the lurch. Once they were in the clear he sped up even more. The wind licked their faces with it’s cool breeze and the overgrown shoulder of road and sideline trees were all but a blur as they wizzed along. At one particular moment he felt her slide her arms from him. 

 

Looking up into the rearview mirror he could see that she was leaning back arms outstretched with a smile on her face, her clothes and hair flapping furiously in the wind. Knowing that she couldn’t hear him over the motor he let out a snicker at the sight of her bliss. Saw the worries lifting and cascade from her with the wind. He was glad she agreed to accompany him on the supply run. She was always at camp these days, gave a smile here and there but kept to herself mostly. She had been through so much and he wanted to give her something special… this was it. Watching her now he knew with all of his heart that she needed this escape from reality, that she needed to breath, although for a little while, without the weight of the world on her shoulders. And Lord knows that was just what she carried… the weight of the whole fucking world.   
  
After traveling about seven miles out from camp he shut the motor off and coasted the bike in front of an old farmhouse he had spotted from down the road.

It was large and still held firm to its charm regardless of the various overgrown weeds that made up the yard and the various vines embracing the house’s exterior.   
  
“Might be some supplies in here, guns, at least some knives.” Said Daryl. 

He grabbed at the rag in his back pocket and wiped at a  grimy porch window so he could take a peek inside.    
  
“Might be, the place looks pretty boarded up. Nobody might have touched it.”, she muttered. 

Walking up the steps she ran her hand along the big white rails on either side of her.

“ pretty.” she exhaled under her breath. She let her mind wander for a moment. Trying to imagine this place brand new with its wrap around porch and white trim. It was a place she would have loved to call home once upon a time. Her split second daydream was interrupted by and inarticulate sound escaping Daryl's lips. Both of his hands were framing his eyes as he peered through the glass. 

 

“ I see two heads.” he stuffed the rag back into his pocket and picked up his bow.   
  
After rapping on the door a few times they looked to one another… no movement from within. A good sign.    
  
Daryl kicked in the door and they stood in the entrance, tense and ready for a fight, but the fight never came. 

His eyes immediately shot to the two heads poking up from the back of the couch. Even though they could only see the backs of each blown out scalp, it was clear that they had been there for a while. Daryl let out a sharp whistle to make sure that they were indeed dead before striding towards them. Carol was right behind him, every bit as curious of the scene. Sitting side by side on the couch were the  decayed bodies of a man and a woman. Looking down it wasn’t too hard to figure out what had happened. The two held hands, the woman’s head was leaning on the other’s boney shoulder. They had committed suicide… the gun still gripped in the flesh of mans rotted hand. 

 

Daryl bent down and pried the gun from the man, breaking a few of the hardened fingers in the attempt to get it loose. He was unphased, they had seen this scene before or ones with the same idea anyways. They were always the same… regarding people who just wanted to escape from the hell hole they found themselves knee deep in. It was what it was, just another day in the apocalypse. 

Other than the couple on the couch the farm house was empty. Daryl looked over his shoulder towards the open door to the storm clouds that gathered to the west of them, traveling fast like dark rhinos charging across the horizon.    
  
“ Gonna have t’ be a quick sweep before heading back. Storms comin'.” His face was grave. Carol liked that about him. He was always so serious, so to the point with everything he said, although there was never any time for unnecessary sentences in this world… using more words than you needed to could get you killed.    
  
“Or we could hold up here.” She said, eyes twinkling with wit. “ we could fool around.”she kidded, smiling flirtatiously, but couldn't hold it for long before she started to giggle.    
  
He gave out a short huff under his breath. She knew he hadn't forgotten what she had said at the prison. “Wanna screw around?” It had been a joke then and reliving it made their nerves a bit easier for the task at hand.   
  
At first the mutual search was soft. They opened drawers and rifled through cabinets quietly, careful not to make too much noise but after a while they disregarded that notion. There was no one here but them, no people, no walkers, they were alone.    
  
It may have been odd to go through another’s belongings to anyone else, maybe before all of this happened but it had been nearly nine years living in this Hell.    
Nine years of witnessing death over and over and over again. To build mistrust, a cold heart, disregard. 

They searched through closets and cabinets like they weren't disturbing forgotten memories. Pocketing anything and everything useful; a few lighters, matches, tape, and gauze. Everything that couldn’t easily be slid in a pocket was tossed into the bags they each sported. Carol had found a few dozen cans of potty meat and several sealed tubs of slim fast deep in one of the cabinets. She stashed them away into her satchel causing it to awkwardly bulge on the sides with the odd shapes it now possessed.

 

They raped and rummaged through the space as if these items never had the chance to belong to a family, to another time, another world. They didn't have time to think of such things. Been on the road for too long to waste precious moments dwelling on the past or what might have been. That kind of thinking was left in the past with the folks who had once owned this house. The only time worth considering was now… right now and what they might need in the future.   
  
After rummaging through the main spaces the two made their way down the mold stenched hallway. Carol had a knife in one hand, leaving her other hand free to tap on and open doors. Daryl flanked her hind side, his bow loaded and ready. Crooked frames sporting dusty faces hung on either side of them.    
  
The first door they approached was tightly shut with a towel stretched across the floor to seal the crack between the bottom of the door and the floorboards. Carol lightly tapped on the door… nothing moved. There was no footsteps, no moans… the room was clear. She slowly twisted the handle and they stepped inside. 

The soft pink walls of a nursery gently reached out to grab their senses. The room was pristine, untouched by the mold that feasted on the rest of the house thanks to the old towel that had served as a makeshift seal. Light flooded in from a small window that was draped with a milky white knitted curtain. Below it's soft treases was a name written on the wall… Destiny. The letters were beautifully written, the font large and centered above a large white crib.    
  
They stood there for a few minutes. Seemingly to take the innocence of it all in. There was barely any dust atop the dresser and on the walls as if the door behind them hadn't been opened since it had all began. It was uncanny really, a bit hair raising to have the realization forced in such a way that a child had once been here.    
That an infant had once slept before them. That a tiny being that had not had the chance to grow, to make mistakes, to create a family had been rocked to sleep and lowered in that gorgeous white crib. How could such a pure thing be allowed to be swallowed up by such an ugly world.    
  
“Where was God in all of this? How did He fit in the puzzle to have let such a thing happen to something so innocent… to let something happen to Destiny?” these were the thoughts going through Daryls head as he studied Carol.    
  
She stood there. Her head tilted down towards a small stuffed penguin she grasped with both hands. It was hyper soft with the sparkling big glitter eyes like they sell in the store. She smiled down at it. Memories dancing behind her eyelids.   
  
“ How could God take Sophia?”, “No,” he thought. “He didn't have nothing to do with what happened to Sofia, bc He didn't care. A God who cared wouldn't fill the earth with walkers.”   
  
Daryl gently grabbed hold of Carols arm, which was so thin that his finger nearly touched all the way around.    
“ Come on.”, he said softly, almost a whisper.   
  
She shifted into motion, allowing her body to be steered by his gentle tug.    
On her way out she placed the stuffed penguin atop the small dresser beside the door. She had sat it up-right but the weight of the beaded head caused the bird to shift sharply down knocking a small picture frame to the floor.    
The sound it made was sharp and loud. Causing them both to jump and look towards it. Seeing that it was nothing they turned their backs and began to proceed to check the other rooms. It was then that the thumping began. At first it wasn't very noticeable but it was very persistent and uneven.    
  
Thump…thump… thud… thump.    
  
Carol had stopped dead in her tracks which made Daryl halt, for he was still gripping her arm.    
  
Thump…thud… thud… thump.   
  
Whatever it was he had heard it to. They backed up slowly, following the noise and stood side by side in the soft pink room once more. It had stopped. Daryl lightly tapped his bow against the wall a few times.    
  
Thud… thump… thump… thump.   
  
Both of their hearts dropped. Carol’s free hand shot up to cover her mouth. She was weak in the knees all of a sudden. The realization of the source almost too much for her to bare.   
  
She began to walk towards the crib but Daryl raised his bow across her chest, blocking her path.    
  
“Stay.” He ordered. He didn't have to tell her twice, she turned on her heels and walked out of the room. She didn't make it far. She stood right outside of it, her back to the wall, left shoulder touching the frame of the door. She couldn't see, she wanted to, but knew that she couldn't see.    
  
Daryl approached the crib with a slight hope, a small thread of belief that someone must have been seeking refuge, saw the house was clear, left the baby and went for supplies. But he knew in his soul that it wasn't likely.    
  


He walked closer and peered down, his eyes fell over a small pale face with purple blotches from where the blood had stopped flowing. The mouth was silently suckling the air for nutrients. Laced feet softly kicked the rails that towered over them.   
  
He immediately stepped back with a sharp inhalation, chest heaving,and a lump forming in his throat. He had seen so much… been dulled by everything ugly in this world but the sight of a baby, the first walker he had seen in this form made him sick to his stomach.    
  
Carol’s hand was on his arm now, it steadied him. In the back of his mind he wished her away, told her that she didn't need to see, that she couldn't handle it and that she should go back into the hallway. He didn't say anything though. The contents of the crib had shook him to the core. Would probably shake everyone… should shake anyone. He needed her strength, she was always so strong, even at her most fragile state she was always so strong.    
  
They peered into the crib as one person, absorbing strength from one another as they gazed down at the small lump of a living corpse before them. There was no telling how long it had been trapped there. A pink faded onesie hugged it snuggly. Chubby discolored thighs poked out. Forever exposed to the cold, for the blanket had been kicked off long ago. If it weren't for the obvious signs it would have looked like an ordinary living baby before them. This was baby Destiny, doomed to constant hunger as well as eternal starvation.  Lying on her back her arms and legs were sprawled out the way babies often did, moving about in jerks. Her eyes were tightly shut, sealed from dried tears but there was no doubt that she was aware of their presence… her lips smacked at the air letting the light temporarily shine on her white gums. 

She must have been no more than a month old.

 

Through the sunflower printed onesie her ribs protruded with each breath. It was clear that she had been safely placed into the crib for the last time, that her parents had made sure that the door was shut knowing that they wouldn't come back to lift her out again. They must have placed the towel down to muffle the gunshots. The thought that they would just leave her there was sickening, but how many could go through with something like that. It was one thing shooting yourself but how could you shoot your newborn. So they must have drugged her… crushed sleeping pills into her milk, cooed her to sleep, said their goodbyes, and left her there to slip peacefully away in her sleep. Either that or she had starved to death.

 

Daryl hoped it had been the first option. If her parents had maybe known that the virus was already in them, that they would be leaving their baby to awake as the undead, maybe there would have been three bodies on that couch, one being small enough to fit in the crook of an arm. There was no way of knowing anything these days. All he knew was that he and Carol were looking down at little Destiny now.

Her tiny hands clasped and unclasped, blindly reaching into the air for them. She was so beautiful, her skin, although discolored, was still flawless. The room had been sealed for so long, acting as a brightly lit, pink tomb. She had been perfectly preserved. 

 

Carol reached down and let the cold outstretched hand grasp onto her fingers. Daryl watched her silently. He wanted to stop her but made no action to. There was no threat here and he knew that Carol needed to do this. To give this poor infant comfort at last. A mother's touch.  

 

The pitiful thing ceased it’s kicking immediately after it’s tiny fingers closed around the warm skin. The touch appeared to have soothed it for a spell as if something registered somewhere deep within itself that this was human contact.  Something it had been without for who knows how long. The stillness was short lived, for it then started to blindly search with it’s other hand. Two little purple hands held tight to Carols fingers now. The babies mouth worked frantically causing sickening suckling noises to echo throughout the room. 

 

She was trying with all her might to bring Carol’s fingers to her gaping mouth. 

 

Thud, thud, thump, thump, thud… her tiny socks excitedly pounded the wooden rails as Carols finger slipped into her cold mouth. While Destiny's gums gnawed desperately to break the skin, Carol caressed her soft, tender scalp. Smoothing down the thin tufts of hair with the back of her hand Carol began to sing softly. The initial sound of it made Daryl jump slightly. It shocked him. He had never heard Carol sing, hum, or even whistle a tune in the time he had known her and there she was, leaning over a crib singing ‘Wild Horses’ by The Rolling Stones to a baby walker. The tune was the kind that touched your soul, it touched Daryl’s, twisted it like wringing out a wet cloth.

 

“ Childhood living is easy to do,   
The things you wanted I bought them for you…” ,

 

Carol continued to run the back of her hand along the cool soft skin… trailing her fingers along the thin brow to the chilled chubby cheek below her.   
  


“Graceless lady you know who I am,   
You know I can't let you slide through my hands…”,

 

She removed her finger from the hungry mouth and gently placed her hand upon the wriggling face, steadying it. She continued to sing the words soothingly as her left hand freed the knife from her waistline. The light pink onesie darkened from fallen tears as Carol positioned the knife to the side of the infants soft temple.    
  


“Wild horses couldn't drag me away   
Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away”,

 

The soft thudding and suckling noises filled the room no more. 

 

Daryl wrapped Carol up into a tight hug when she finally turned around. His large hand cupped the back of her head, pushing her pale sobbing face deep into his welcoming chest. They stood there like that for several moments… seamingly frozen in time. Mutually shocked from what they had just witnessed. He released his grip and tenderly kissed her forehead, returning the gesture she had given him so many times before. She looked up at him then with her red eyes. She didn’t have to say it, he knew she felt his compassion, his love, his support in that moment… she knew that what he had just done marked yet another chapter in their deepening friendship.

 

“ Com’ on. Let’s get the hell outta here.” he said wiping away her tears with the sleeve of his shirt. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, smiled weakly, and nodded her head to his proposition. 

 

They gathered their supplies and walked out the door, Daryl tossed a match over his shoulder as he passed the threshold. Dark smoke rose against the darkening sky as they disappeared over the horizon. Different people from who they were when they first arrived.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this! I absolutely love these two characters & think that they have a relationship that goes deeper than only friendship. I truly believe that they are soulmates, which is something I would yearn for myself if the roles were reversed & I found myself in a world like that.


End file.
